Her Butler: Demon, Butler, Liar, Lover?
by Arya24601
Summary: Emmalinn Heartfilia can hardly remember a time before her butler Sebastian. On Christmas Eve her mother and siblings were killed by a horrific monster. Emmalinn would've met the same fate,if not for the mysterious butler. As time passes Sebastian becomes more than just a butler to her. He becomes a mystery, one Emma is determined to solve. But then her heart begins to betray her...
1. Chapter 1

_(A/N: I do not own Black Butler or the last name Heartfillia, which is from Fairy Tail. I own only the story and the idea. Enjoy!)_

The snow drifts down in soft, powdery flakes. The golden glow of the street lamps catch on their icy facets, giving them a silvery luster. The air is crisp and cold, the scents of pine and gingerbread swirling around me. The feel of the icy flakes on my cheeks reminds me of another Christmas Eve, twelve years ago.

_White snow drifts down onto my lap, capturing than releasing the crimson blood staining my skirt. I shiver in the cold and rub my palms on my bare arms. Something warm and soft drifts over my shoulders. I look up and see a young man draping his woolen tailcoat over my shoulders. His skin is a pale alabaster, his eyes glow red like the last embers of a dying fire, and his angular face is framed by raven-black hair. _

"_Hello little one." _

"_Hell- Hello." _

"_You do not need to be afraid. I am not going to hurt you." His voice is deep and comforting, like hot tea on a frigid winter's eve. He crouches down to my level and offers me his white-gloved hands. He pulls me to my feet and we stand silently, watching each other. _

"_Did- Did you kill the demon?" His face darkens slightly. Then he smiles again. and nods. _

"_Indeed I did. Can you tell me where you live?" _

"_Outside of London. In the big manor house with the green doors." His brows crinkle together slightly. _

"_The Heartfilia estate?" _

"_Yes." _

"_Very well. Let's get you home." He scoops me up and holds me close to his chest. I close my eyes and let the steady pace of his running lull me into the blissful oblivion of sleep. _

"Mistress. Your father is waiting for you outside the cathedral. It would be wise to hurry." I turn to see my family's butler's gloved hand on my shoulder.

"Yes… I- was just thinking."

"Of course." The heels of my boots click softly against the cobblestones of the street as Sebastian escorts me to the waiting doors of the wooden cathedral. He remains just a few steps behind me as courtesy dictates, but ready should I need anything. Sebastian opens the door and bows to me as I enter the great church. I turn to him and say,

"Sebastian?"

"Yes, mistress?"

"My name is Emmalinn." I spin quickly on my heel and make my way through the crowd of nobles to where my father is waiting. "Father!" The look in his stormy eyes stops me from throwing my arms around him.

"Emmalinn. You are late. Look at you, the hem of your dress is soaked. Did Sebastian make you walk?"

"No, Father. I asked him to walk with me. London always looks so beautiful on Christmas Eve, and... "His withering glare causes the words to shrivel and die in my throat.

"You are a young lady now. A woman of your stature should not be seen walking to church on Christmas Eve. Especially unchaperoned."

"Sebastian was with me."

"Sebastian is a _man_. Not to mention your butler. People will begin to talk. You must begin to behave yourself in a way that befits a young lady of your social standing. I did not return from Japan intending to hear rumors about my daughter's secret romances. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Father." He takes my arm in his and leads me down the aisle to our family pew.

Once upon a time, there were five of us seated on the hard wood, instead of two. I can still see the ghosts of my family in my mind. My mother, smiling and laughing as she told us to sit quietly and behave or else Saint Nicholas wouldn't come, The green of her dress bringing out the green of her eyes. My brother, William, ecstatic at being allowed to wear trousers like my father, his dark curls springing in a wreath around his round face. My sister, Victoria , smoothing the skirts of her Christmas dress and sitting like a proper lady, trying to impress my father.

Twelve years ago, on the same night I met Sebastian for the first time, my entire family except for my father and I had been killed in a gruesome accident. I had been four years old,lost alone in the snow, searching for my mother in the gray streets of London. I would've died too, had Sebastian not found me. My father had never returned to himself after the deaths of my mother, brother and sister. He was no longer the kind man I would throw my arms around and call 'Papa'. Instead he became 'Father', a hard, cruel man who would use whatever force necessary for complete obedience. This principle applied to his only remaining child as well as his business.

As our fortune and company grew, what was left of my papa withered. Now, the only times I would catch even a glimpse of the man he had been before was at the graves of my mother, William, and Victoria.

The carriage ride home after the service was quiet. I occupy myself by watching the dark forests and fields flash by as we speed away from the outskirts of London and towards the great mansion awaiting our return. Sebastian transitions the horses smoothly to a halt and opened the door for us. My father climbs down without assistance, and I make to do the same. As I am stepping down to the snowy ground my skirts tangle around my ankles and I fall forward, pitching into the ready arms of Sebastian. His arms wrap securely around me, just above my waist and my face presses into the soft fabric of his white dress shirt. I relax into his touch, enjoying the feeling of warmth and security.

"Emmalinn!" My father barks from the top of the steps. I quickly jump back from Sebastian as though electrocuted and hastily make my way to the double doors leading into my home. I risk a glance behind me and catch Sebastian's crimson eyes. He smiles slightly and nods his head before taking the horses and disappearing into the darkness leading to the stables.


	2. Chapter 2

(_Much shorter chapter...)_

Soft golden light shines through the thin gossamer curtains hiding the glittering landscape from view. I sit up and stretch, rested after a good night's sleep. I throw back the bedcovers and pull my dressing gown over my nightgown, tying it around my waist. I open the door of my bedroom and close it behind me. I pad quietly down the hallway towards the kitchen where I can already smell breakfast being prepared.

Our cook, Eloise, is busy stirring a large pot of something on the stove. Her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows and she wears a white apron tied around her large middle. As she bends down to peer into the oven I dip my finger into the pot of melting chocolate and slip past her to hop up onto the large wooden counter cluttered with pots and cutlery.

"Emmalinn, what have I told you about sneaking tastes? If you want to try something, just ask." She says as she pulls a tray of golden scones from the oven.

"But it's more fun that way." She sighs and shakes her head, a smile pulling at the corner of her full lips.

"Cherie, if you're going to be in my kitchen, the least you can do is help."

"Alright. What do you want me to do?" I ask, tying an apron over my clothes and pulling my hair back with a piece of ribbon.

"Cut strawberries into quarters, the oranges in sixths, and the grapefruits in half." I grab a knife and cutting board and set to sticky juice dries on my forearms and hands, staining them slightly. "You're awfully quiet this morning."

"Eloise, did you ever feel…"

"What cherie?"

"Like you thought you knew someone, and then suddenly, they're a complete stranger?"

"Are you speaking of your father? Or someone else?" She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Have you finally found a man?"

"I know men. It's not some big scandal if I talk to one." She laughs.

"There's the Emmalinn I know. Your father was a good man. It's not my place to criticize…"

"But you're going to anyway."

"You know me too well. Your mother's death killed something in him. Combined with the deaths of his heir and your sister… I doubt anyone could fully recover."

"Do you remember my mother?"

"Aye. She always had a kind word for us servants, and was completely devoted when it came to you children. She was a saint. The world lost her much too soon."

"Was she beautiful?"

"Most seemed to think so. But your mama never put much stock in beauty. You look an awful lot like her. Same hair, same nose, same milky skin. You have your father's eyes though. Like sapphires… Speaking of your papa, you ought to go get washed up. We wouldn't want him seeing you like this, now would we?"

"No, definitely not." I stretch up and kiss her cheek quickly. "Thank you, Eloise."

"Anytime, cherie."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter's a bit longer than the last one. I was planning to post chapter's 3 and 4 as one big chapter, bu then it started getting really long... Anyway! Thanks to everyone who's followed/reviewed/favorite! Enjoy!**

After I've returned from my morning ride, I duck quickly into the kitchen for a cup of tea before returning to my small study to read. I perch myself upon the bench of the window-seat and draw my knees up to my chest. The book's worn leather cover is soft between my hands from years of use, and in some places the ink has smeared slightly from years of reading. My mother's diary falls open in my lap and I begin to read.

_March 14. _

_Yesterday evening I met the most wonderful man at Eleanor's birthday ball. _ _He was certainly more handsome than any of the men back home in America. And he was delightfully kind. Being the younger of the 'maidens on display', as Eleanor and I jokingly call it, my company wasn't as desired as Eleanor's. But he came over and asked me to dance like a true gentleman. Which he is, Englishman or not. We danced for several rounds. When we tired, I invited him to see Grandmama's estate. We went walking in the gardens and when I took a slight chill, seeing as the night had grown cold, he offered me his suit coat! Then, to my surprise and utter delight, he kissed me. Kissed me! I nearly died of happiness. Even his name is wonderful… Arthur Heartfilia. He is a lord, and head of a great tea company here in London! Oh, how I wish Father would allow us to marry… That is, if Arthur asks for my hand. I wish he would. To think that I, Alexandria Blackwood, once so full of dreams, now only want this man as my husband! I do believe I love him! Oh, it is so more wonderful than any novel could tell. But I do hope he wouldn't expect me to be a quiet and obedient wife. As much as I love him, I simply couldn't do that._

A knock on the door brings me back from my mother's girlish words of passion.

"Yes?" My maid Amelia opens the door and pokes her head in.

"M'lady, your father wishes to see you in his study." I sigh and place a bookmark between the worn pages before standing and follow her down the hall to my father's study.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You wanted to see me Father?" He sets his tea cup down and motions for Sebastian to clear it away.

"Yes. Although I had thought you would take a few minutes to change before our meeting." He says distastefully, glancing down at the soaked hem of my dress. I bow my head and let a curtain of hair hide my scowl from him. "I wanted to inform you of your betrothal."

"My what?" I say in disbelief.

"Your betrothal. It would do you well to pay attention."

"To whom?!"

"The Earl Alois Trancy. A union between our two families will increase our wealth and social standing." He continues on, droning monotonously about how it is my 'duty'. My chest feels tight and clenched. _An arranged marriage… Part of me wishes I'd been betrothed at birth. Then at least I could know my future. But as the youngest child, I guess everyone assumed I'd meet some lord at one of my siblings' weddings. Now though… _"Emmalinn, are you listening to me?"

"Yes Father."

"You two shall remained affianced until your eighteenth birthday. The Earl is hosting a soiree at his manor tomorrow evening. You are to meet then."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said 'no'. It would do you well to pay attention." I am playing a dangerous game, denying and mocking my father in the same sentence.

"Why should I marry him?"

""Leave us, Sebastian." My father's voice is deadly calm. Sebastian bows and leaves quickly, taking what's left of my father's morning tea with him. "Repeat yourself. Now."

"Why should I marry someone I have never met, let alone know?"

"You shall marry him because I told you to. I am still the master of this house and everything in it, including you. You may play at being mistress and running the English branch of the company while I am away, but while I live I still hold that power. Rid yourself of this silly notion that you should marry for love. Love will only bring you pain." He turns his back to me, signalling the end of our argument.

"What notion?! I know love doesn't exist between members of the upper class. How can it? All we nobles do is play each other false in order to make the greatest profit we can. It's disgusting! Good day, Father." I turn to leave but my father's hand grabs my wrist and holds me firm.

"Did I say you could leave?" I meet his icy glare and remain silent. "Well, did I?" I fix my gaze on him but do not answer. _Denial. The most bitter taste to him._ "Answer me, girl!"

"No, you did not. I excused myself." His open hand crashes against my cheek. The force of his slap sends me rocking backwards onto my heels.

"I have had enough of your games. You are longer a child. You will learn to obey, both me and your fiancé. **Obedience** is the best trait a woman can possess."

"Did Mother bow to you? Did she '_obey'_?" He smacks me again, harder, and I stumble backwards. My head catches on the corner of his mahogany desk and I crumple to the ground.


End file.
